Plant Genocide
by Willowth'Wisp
Summary: Katie whirled around and hurled a punch into her attacker's gut, her momentum slowed by the water dragging back on her limbs, but she knocked the precious breath out of none other than a blue-eyed boy with amber hair floating in all directions and a surprised look on his face. Travis Stoll. (Tratie)


Cool earth crumbled to smaller bits in her fingers, held feebly together by thin roots of defiant weeds, and the girl of both Cherokee and godly descent meticulously separated the unwanted plant from the dirt before tossing it on the ever-mounting pile beside her. Lovingly, her hands moved with firm and worshipful competence to a marigold's thin stems, flattening the dirt around them before bending to take a sniff at the vaguely pungent blooms. She liked marigolds for that reason. They were tiny gold dots that could pack a punch against their enemies (namely insects) and the little clusters of flowers were as hardy as a gardener could ask for. And she was a gardener in every sense of the word.

Katie Gardener sat back, huffing a pleased sigh, turning satisfied dark eyes over the thick carpet of golden flowers spreading across the patch.

"PLANT GENOCIDE!" yelled a voice and Katie jumped, whipping her head around to fasten onyx eyes on the grinning perpetrator.

Travis Stoll, straight brown hair askew and blue eyes alight with a maniacal light, dove across the ground and scooped up the limp body of a slightly-shriveled weed. The dirt that clung to its flailing weeds flew off, a speck hitting Katie just below her left eye.

" _No!_ " he wailed, his anguish _almost_ convincing. "Daisy, hold on! Just hold on, baby, I got you!"

"That's a dandelion, Stoll. And daisies aren't weeds."

Travis glared at her, but a telltale twitch of his lips told her the real story, and it made her brows lower at him stormily. "Don't tell me what I know, you murderer! This is like...the _definition_ of mass killing!"

Katie watched him dryly, resigned to the fact that her lovely Saturday morning was shattered into a mess of Stoll's shenanigans and there wasn't a thing she could do about it, and rested her dirt-stained hands against her sun-and-birth-bronzed thighs. Her wrists brushed against the worn threads of her jean shorts, little pink flowers stiched into the material.

"You're ridiculous, Stoll. I'm _weeding_."

He waved a hand wildly at the still-standing marigolds and Katie purposefully edged herself between the boy and her precious plants.

"You're picking out which plants you want! A very _certain kind of_ plant! And the others are just murdered and presumably put on a giant compost pile, right?" He gasped loudly, slapping a hand over his mouth, and whispered through dirt-stained fingers, " _The mass grave._ "

"You really shouldn't joke about that," she rebuked sternly. "That kind of thing is-"

"Yeah, I know, I know," he answered, waving it off with a faint look of apology that placated her very slightly. "Ares must have a field day."

Katie plucked the dandelion from his fingers and dropped it back onto the pile, deciding not to tell him that Ares was technically a god of war, not necessarily of death. Trust Travis Stoll to not even be able to keep their godly family straight. "Was there something you wanted, Stoll?"

"Yes!" He popped upward, hands planted on the field to hold his front half above the ground, and unintentionally giving Katie a great view of the grass-and-dirt-stained front of his orange T-shirt that he must have obtained when he dove for the pile like an idiot. She rolled her eyes, a smirk twitching at her lips. He did everything like an idiot.

When he said nothing else, only grinned at her, Katie stared at him and waved a hand in a circular motion to convince him to go on. He did nothing of the sort.

"So...?" she prompted.

"I'm doing it."

"What-?"

Katie's eyes shifted to the cluster of buildings that made up the un-farmed part of Camp Half-Blood, her brow furrowing and her suspicion growing palpable as Stoll's grin widened while his blue eyes glittered. A sure danger sign.

"Stoll..." she said slowly, picking up her trowel, and though she hadn't meant it to be a threatening gesture, Stoll scooted backwards straightaway. It made her smirk. "Where's Connor?"

"Connor? Who's Connor? You mean the little midget that constantly follows me around?" His eyes were innocent. "That Connor?"

Katie stared at him, unimpressed, and he cracked up. He folded in on himself with the force of it, his arms crossing over his stomach, as his guffaws exploded through the crisp spring air. But her suspicion hadn't died and she reached out to give him a hard enough shove to make him look up, laughter dying away in sound but still very much alive in his eyes and grin and in the very essence of Travis Stoll. Always laughing. Always happy. Always able to light up a room, and it kind of made her want to punch him.

"Where is he?" she asked again, injecting purpose into her voice, and pinned him in place with a cutting look from eyes like black glass.

"I don't know. What makes you think I keep tabs on such an annoying midget?"

With an exasperated huff, she turned, scooped up the pile of defeated weeds, and shoved them into his arms.

Sweetly, she said, "Bury the victims, won't you? I have to stop your idiot brother from robbing my store." Her eyes drilled into his, daring him to contradict the only reasonable conclusion she could come to. Although she supposed he could be distracting her while Connor set up some other mischief, but that was doubtful, as Travis would likely want to distract _all_ the campers if that was the case.

Stoll laughed as she marched away, her dark hair a reddish ripple behind her, and called out one last quip for the sole purpose, she was sure, to annoy her one last time before she got out of earshot, "Took you long enough, Katie!"

Katie stalked through the fields of plants, flowers slowly giving way to tiny sprigs that would one day be full-fledged strawberries (overwatched carefully by none other than Katie herself), and was careful not to crush any on her way. Though she did notice a few smushed baby plants where Travis must have walked, and her irritation developed into a low, animalistic growl. She stopped briefly to touch the poor plants, shoving some of her own vitality into the little ones, and felt the reassuring thrum of fragile life answer her as the plant's leaves unfolded and their stems straightened with what almost seemed like a sigh.

By the time she reached the store, her annoyance had sprouted wings and was battering against her to get free. He had crushed _five_ strawberry plants. Did he just not care about the camp's financial needs? About the tiny, struggling life fighting through half-frozen earth and gulping at scant sunshine? About how much time and love _she_ invested in their care?

So, naturally, it should have been no surprise when she flung the doors open and they banged noisily against the walls like a slap. Her dark glare zeroed in on Connor Stoll, who had frozen with his hand in the register.

" _What_ ," she hissed, intending to drag out every word in her sentence, but Connor didn't give her the chance.

He sprang from his position, dropping two candy bars and a bouncy ball on his flight to the backdoor, cackling in a way very similar to his older brother's.

He almost made it, too.

Katie flung out a hand, drawing on her power like how she'd breathe deeply of a sugar-scented bakery, and a tangle of bushes interwove tightly across the doorway like a branchy, prickly spiderweb. She advanced on the younger Stoll, eyes flashing, and Connor glanced around briefly without a trace of alarm before grinning. Before she could interpret what that look meant, he slid under a clothes' rack and shot for the other door, hooking a pair of shorts on his way out, and Katie spun to intercept him.

"STOLL!" she bellowed, summoning another thread of power, but she was too slow this time. He scampered out, and she charged after him, irritation sizzling like a second skin. Gods. Why did they insist on doing this?

"Yes?"

Katie gasped and skidded to a halt as she raced for the doorway, just shy of ramming into Connor-? Travis-? What-?

She teetered badly, flinging out an arm for balance, and found her waist seized, an arm wrapped all the way around her hips and a lean chest pressed up against hers. Which seemed like a _bit_ overkill.

Travis grinned down at her, cocking an eyebrow, and said impishly, "You're welcome. No, really, you don't have to say anything about what a gentleman I am-"

She shoved him away and he staggered backwards a few steps with a laugh that sounded like jingling bells. Stuff like that had been happening more and more lately. He'd get too close or he'd make her fight back a smile when he deserved to be put on time-out like a little child (because that's what he was _acting_ like!) or her pulse would burn when he did things like- like _that._ He flustered her, and she hated it.

She cut a glare at him as sharp as shattered glass.

"If you're finished trying to _grope_ me, Stoll-"

He spread his hands before her, eyes widening with mock-hurt. "I was catching you! I didn't want you to land on these pebbles!" One sandaled foot kicked in the cobalt bits as evidence, and she huffed a grumpy breath at him that was a little exaggerated so she didn't smile instead, and she pushed past him to look for Connor.

Connor Stoll, by that point, had disappeared from sight, and it made her eyes narrow dangerously. He'd robbed her store. They both had.

Fine. Well, she could play dirty. She could play _real_ dirty.

-~o~-

Katie leaned against her pillows, nose buried in a fantasy book that she perused with climaxing interest, her hands tight on each halved stack of paper. Her eyes intently skimmed every line, each word a bold black mark, and just as the heroine groaned under the weight of heartbreak and started to pull her legs under her, Katie's door slammed open.

She jumped hard, shooting upright, and in the process, lost her page. Annoyance flicked through her like a whip cracking at horses, and she swung a frown at the perpetrator.

" _Katie_ ," puffed Travis, and her glare downshifted into a smirk.

She swung her legs purposefully off the mattress, hands braced on either side of her thighs as she leaned forward, cocking her head devilishly, "Yes?"

Travis blinked those sky eyes once, twice, and then a glimmer of suspicion appeared there. He eased upright, his rushing breath abating, and leaned against the door frame. A flicker of wry intelligence glittered in his eyes, on his boyishly handsome face, and Katie recognized it even though she didn't want to. Because, unfortunately, Stoll _was_ smart, and he knew who was responsible for plundering his cabin.

"You took our stuff."

It wasn't a question, but it wasn't an accusation either.

Katie widened her eyes innocently in a mockery of the expression he often made when he was caught, twirling a strand of dark hair around her finger before tucking it behind her sunburned ear (result of Travis running off with her favorite straw hat, with the excuse that it looked ridiculous, which was false, of course).

"As if I'd ever step foot in that dump you call a cabin-"

"Katie," he frowned. "Where'd you put it?"

"Put what?" she asked, feigning the wide-eyed innocence she'd seen on his face so many times for all she was worth. It made him huff an amused, exasperated laugh.

"Don't pretend you're stupid, Katie. It doesn't suit you."

"Thanks?"

He smirked. "You're welcome. Now will you tell me where our stuff is?"

"Will you give me back the stuff you stole?"

He waggled his eyebrows. "The stuff we _stoll_?"

She didn't deign to acknowledge that, instead shooting onward, "And I mean, _all_ of it. Everything you've taken from the store. And my sister's shoes- oh don't give me that look, we both know there's no one else who would've taken them. _And_ my hat."

He groaned and tipped his head backwards to thump against the wooden wall of the cabin. "That thing? You still remember it?"

She glared at him, forgetting that she was the one in control here. "Yes, the sunburns make it a little hard to forget."

Ah, there. Something she didn't quite understand. A flicker of guilt dove across his expression like a wild-hearted hare, his blue gaze flicking upward to plunge into hers. Her vocabulary, so extensive and sharp, perhaps her greatest weapon next to her brain, suddenly dried as he gave her _that_ look. It backed her breath into her lungs and held it prisoner there.

"You got sunburns?" he asked, and the guilt rinsing his words startled her. Why should he care? Since when had he ever cared about the things she did or what consequences his pranks caused to those around him? Travis Stoll didn't think that far. He only acted, and was lucky enough to know how to run just fast enough to keep ahead of the chaos he wreaked.

She worried her lip and nodded, reaching up a finger to touch the curve of her ear, where her skin was already peeling away in white flakes.

He took a few steps forward to examine the damage, and though Katie hated it and didn't understand it and smacked it, her pulse was suddenly a rampant song in her blood.

"Relax, Stoll," she heard her dry, sarcastic voice crack out. "It's tiny. I was kidding. And it's not going to kill me, so you can stop looking like you stabbed me through the heart."

He glanced down at her, a laugh quick to rise out of him, and with him close enough for her to see the weave of his shirt and maybe have seen the darker flecks of blue in his eyes if she'd been brave enough to lift her own that far up, Katie merely settled her glare onto the floor and tried to fight the sudden urge to fidget. She tucked her hands under her thighs, squinching herself into a compact, tight bundle of a human being.

"Only with an arrow, I hope," he teased, and she rolled her eyes at him, leaning away from him surreptitiously.

He stepped back and said, "Okay, you can have the ridiculous hat back. Now can you bring us back our beds and stuff?"

Katie loosed a breath.

"First of all, it's _not_ ridiculous. It's supposed to keep the sun off my head, and it serves that purpose very well. Second," her eyes raised to his then, safe in the knowledge that he was no longer close enough to touch her, and with it rose her receded mischief. "I'm not going to bring it to you."

She rose and passed him with a smirk flung at him sideways across her shoulder. "You're welcome to retrieve it though."

-~o~-

"Are you serious?"

Katie fought back a grin. With her arms crossed, weight leaned against one leg so one hip curved outward, and her eyes pinned on Travis, she was trying to emulate authority and sass. She was dignity and dominance incarnate. She was unyielding as stone. She was all those things and more, a defiant, sassy demigod determined not to lose this battle Travis had waged. Hmph.

Travis didn't seem particularly impressed. He was too busy leaning over the lake, staring in dismay at the pile of items at the bottom, netted in a material she'd borrowed from the naiads to keep the water from inflicting damage on his belongings. He didn't know that, though, and the smirking daughter of Demeter had no intention of telling him.

He was clever. He could figure it out on his own.

Katie glanced around, spotted a tree with a convenient juncture of two thick trunks spreading outward, unfurling leaves into the sky, and she seated herself there to wait. She flicked her fingers at him expectantly, and he sighed again. Then a gleam entered his eyes, and slowly, a smirk curved his lips upward. It made her nervous, that smirk.

"You know," he said, eyes bright, "if you wanted me to take off my shirt, you could've just asked."

Katie didn't so much as twitch as her wary gaze turned into a glare, but a flush rose to her bronzed cheeks, spreading across her high cheekbones, and she opened her mouth to loose the curling lash of sass on her tongue-

But Travis had seen the blush, and he laughed at it, before he did indeed peel the orange shirt up off his torso and tossed it to the side. Perhaps more dramatically than was necessary, and she scoffed at him for it. His smirk was no less suggestive and his gaze only left hers when he directed it at the lake, sighed once more, and then kicked off his sandals.

"I hope you know this isn't over," he told her, and Katie rolled her eyes.

"You know, I think we're even at this point, just because I know this started with _your_ stupid prank-"

"You mean the chocolate Easter eggs? That was celebratory!"

"-so, logically, if we're going for a prank-for-a-prank kind of system..." She waved her hand at the lake. "We should be even once you retrieve your hoard."

He choked on a laugh. "My _hoard?_ "

She smirked. "I could've called it evidence of your pack-rat tendencies."

"That's too long," he complained.

"Hence why I said your hoard," she answered, dark eyes sardonic, and pulled a knee up to wrap her arms around it in order to help her balance her weight on the barky seat the tree provided. She waved her hand at him to proceed, and he scowled at her. She snickered, satisfied that for once, he was the one grimacing and she who laughed.

So he dove, water flying up to echo the sky in clear, uneven bits as he pierced the surface.

Katie waited, smugly picking at her nails as she waited for him to resurface. Dragonflies played tag with the wind, clouds shifted over the ever-changing surface of the lake, and the sun inched along its blue curve of sky.

And still, Travis did not come up.

After what felt like five minutes or so, she rose and approached the pier, a seed of worry taking root in her gut. She knelt on the slick wood, palms pressing into the splintery surface, and peered through the dark water. She half-hoped a naiad would come report to her what was happening, but the lake was unmoving, a mirror in which she could only see her paling face and nothing of what lay on the other side.

Or was drowning on the other side.

Katie's fingers dug into the wood.

No, surely not. Travis was a good swimmer. She'd _seen_ him at it, racing Percy, dunking Connor, and basking lazily in the shallows when the summer days were particularly scorching and the sun was a malicious, laughing tyrant overhead.

He wasn't drowning. He wasn't. He couldn't be.

Still, dread crept over her like a slinking cat. It stalked her, hunted her, and she searched the water futilely for a glimpse of the boy she'd sent to the bottom. Six minutes. Seven.

When time stretched on like melted plastic, fear began to set in, her foreboding warping and growing and beginning to murmur in hurried, frantic whispers.

And when Katie realized that Travis might have been assaulted by any number of dangerous creatures or caught in a bit of netting or even was knocked unconscious when he dove in, something snapped.

She rose, whipped around, and bellowed, " _PERCY JACKSON_ , COME HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!"

She tore at her shoes until they came off and then she threw herself in, the cold shocking her skin and jolting her nerves, and she opened her eyes to search and search and search. She dove for the pile of untouched stuff where she'd sent him, water sliding around her body like snake scales.

Her eyes roved over the bottom, looking for a scrap of cloth, a dislodged rock, a predator, even a- a body-

He wasn't _dead_ -

Something seized her from behind.

Katie whirled around and hurled a punch into her attacker's gut, her momentum slowed by the water dragging back on her limbs, but she knocked the precious breath out of none other than a blue-eyed boy with amber hair floating in all directions and a surprised look on his face. Travis Stoll.

Bubbles streamed from his lips, and after a moment of _staring_ , he began to laugh, the noise captured in slivery bubbles that swiftly sped for the surface.

The fucking _bastard_.

Fury filled her so fast it felt like liquid fire, searing her skin and firing her temper, and it heated her blood enough that she no longer felt the cool press of the water on all sides.

She seized his arm and jerked him towards the surface, kicking for air and light not six feet above them. He swam with her easily enough, and she thought he might still be laughing, but she couldn't be sure.

She could not believe he had the _gall_ \- She couldn't believe he thought this was _funny_ -

Her head broke the surface and after a moment, so did his, brown hair plastered to his forehead.

Without a word, Katie struck for the pier, where Percy waited, green eyes wide with surprise. He reached a hand down to haul her up, and she took it, landing her feet on the wood, shedding water from her clothes and hair and skin. Still silent, her anger too potent to do anything other than sit in her cabin and think about how exactly she would rage at him before unleashing her wrath. She could barely think past this flaming, scalding ire, much less _talk_.

"Er, Katie-?"

"Not now," she ground out, hooking two fingers in the heels of her shoes and carrying them off towards her cabin, barefoot.

"Katie- Katie, wait!" said Travis, breathless from laughter and lack of air. Oh, it must have been _so_ hard, holding his breath just to give her a heart attack. Poor Stoll. Poor little idiot who she could never, would never, take seriously ever again if even a slither of inclination had remained. Ha. She was _no one's_ fool.

She'd thought she'd been about to find his limp form floating slowly towards the surface, water trickling through unmoving fingers, eyes closed and lips parted and skin ever so pale-

With a growl, she flung her shoes into the corner and stormed to the showers, startling her half-sister, Miranda. The blonde girl jumped, blinking at her with wide blue eyes.

"Katie, are you-?"

"I'm _fine,_ " she hissed, her words a slew of rage as she slammed the bathroom door so hard the glass roof above them shuddered. "Just peachy."

She stopped, heaving breath after enraged breath into her lungs, taking in the sight of the familiar shampoo bottles lining the beautiful marble bathtub and the shower encased in glass walls and the silver faucets that would spew clear, cleansing water into white basins. The clear stone that formed the roof of the cabin, steepled together to do so, had turned to a translucent, cloudy color when it covered their bathing area to ward off any peeping toms. A pot of cheerful zinnias sat in the crook of the sink and the mirror, bright blobs of color lighting up the otherwise sterile bathroom.

She breathed and breathed, her eyes falling closed, her back falling against the door.

She did not sag. She refused to. She just stayed there, her weight against the white wood and her bare feet planted against the tile the only support she would allow herself to take.

How dare he. _How dare he_. She'd thought he was dying. She'd thought she was responsible. She'd thought this stupid prank war that she couldn't even remember which of them started (it was likely Stoll, but she couldn't be sure she hadn't triggered it somehow) would be the cause of his _death_. She'd thought that the cool, still lake that could be sky-blue or velvet black or dull silver would be the end of funny, clever, charismatic, exasperating, _frustrating_ Travis Stoll. She'd thought he was gone.

She'd thought he was gone. And for such a _stupid_ thing, a prank, a retaliation.

Katie stood there, her dark hair a tangled waterfall spilling down her back and trickling water droplets to the floor, tracing wet rivulets down her skin like streams winding their way down a coppery mountainside. She breathed and gulped air into her heaving lungs and then the burning she'd feared came, the one she'd dreaded. The burn, the sting, that clawed at her eyes until a new kind of wetness joined the lake water trickling down her skin.

The burn spread to her chest, to her throat, making her gasp sobs where there had only been silent shaking before.

She'd thought he was _gone_ -

"Katie?" the voice on the other side of the door was lighthearted, playful, and she recognized it in an instant.

She tensed, her back rigid against the door where before it had curved on herself as tears she hated speared down her cheeks. Her muscles went taut, her mind sharpened, and a resounding _I will_ _not open that door_ echoed through her mind. A fresh surge of fury lanced through her at his light tone; he still had _no idea_ that he'd nearly wrecked her, that he'd done anything at all.

"Katie, let me in. Come on, stop being stubborn." He sounded _teasing_.

Rage and sorrow warred, and a sob tore from her throat before she could bury it behind closed lips.

There was silence for a moment on the other side, before a tentative, questioning, "Katie?" slipped through the cracks in the wood.

She didn't trust herself to speak, so instead she slid a hand to the doorknob and slid the lock into place, that telltale click answer enough.

" _Katie_ ," he protested, pleaded, the humor stripped bare from his voice like crusty brown bark peeled away to reveal a smooth, shiny white surface beneath.

" _Go away_ ," she hissed, her voice cracking from her against her will, and she winced at the tremor in the watery cadence of her words. Her embarrassment hardened her resolve, stiffening her body against the twisting of the doorknob as Travis tried to come in.

She stepped away, lifting her chin, and reached for the shower knob to turn on the sluice of water in the fraying hopes that he would leave if he realized that she was going to bathe, before she remembered far too late that Hermes was the god of thieves. Thieves, bandits, sneaky little devils who got into anything...

She whipped back towards the door just as it jiggled insistently and then turned. She slammed against the door, shoving against it with all her might, _refusing_ to let Travis come in where she was vulnerable and stripped bare like that shiny, pearly tree trunk. It struck her that she was being silly, but she didn't care.

"Katie, let me in," he insisted again, and she snarled in return.

"What part of 'go away' do you not understand?"

"The part where you sound like you're _crying._ "

She stilled. He'd noticed, then, and she watched the foolish hope that he had somehow missed that quiet sob dissipate into nothing.

"No, I'm not," she lied stubbornly, and he let out a snort that made familiar irritation spark under her skin. "Go away, Stoll. I'll deal with you later," she told him, asserting her purposeful, sassy voice that promised trouble back into place, sliding it forward as her last shred of armor.

" _Let me in_."

"No," she spat through gritted teeth. "You are _not_ allowed through this door, Travis Stoll. You are not allowed _near_ me right now."

For a moment in which her breath was baited and her pulse pounded, she only heard the resigned exhale of his breath, and she thought he might just leave. He might just grant her this one moment to pull herself back together. He might just respect her boundaries instead of toeing and prodding and blurring them, just this once-

"Please, Katie," he said, his voice so quiet, so soft, one could liken it to a spider's silk. "Please let me in."

She was utterly still, her palm flat against the wood, her weight still thrust against that door to prevent his entry. _Please, please let me in_.

He was _responsible_ for this. Responsible for making her weak when she knew she was strong. He was snarky and annoying and he never took anything seriously, so she had never taken him seriously. So why should she now?

She shifted to press her back to parallel the door and leaned her head backwards to rest against it, long dark hair slithering over her shoulders and tipping down her back, damp and clumped together by water.

Her finger traced that lock, dipping into the scratches and ridges of it, but she didn't flick it open. She wouldn't. She wouldn't let him see her now, not when it was one of the times that her composure slipped, when he might have the opportunity to realize that Katie was not as tough as she liked to tell herself. She knew it happened to everyone. Falling apart was as human as it got, and her godly half made no difference. She knew it, and she knew she'd rather just deal with those times behind closed doors, because bringing other people into it just twisted an already-emotional situation into something volatile that was out of her control. She didn't like things that she couldn't control, especially if those were things about herself.

He'd wrecked her without trying. This was _his_ fault.

Katie moistened her lips and said, "No."

-~o~-

Katie sat in the strawberry beds, the evening sun sending great shafts of orange light to bathe her body and dust her with gold, and she dug the trowel into the dirt, accidentally catching on a weed's slender root as she did so. Carefully, tenderly, she unwound the plant's grip from her tiny tool, setting it carefully to the side, and continued digging at the hole.

She had decided she wasn't going to think about Stoll. Nor would she think about how her belongings, some of which she hadn't even remembered had been stolen, had mysteriously returned to her cabin. Admittedly, piled haphazardly on her bed, but there they were, plopped in an unorganized heap atop her green sheets. Her stuff. Topped by her straw hat, which now rested on her dark auburn hair, in spite of the chance of a sunburn lessening greatly due to the sun slipping behind rolling hills. It was habit by this point, one that settled back into place as soon as it was returned to her.

Katie lowered a baby strawberry plant into the earth, this one a late bloomer, and gathered the moist soil to press it around the little plant. She was careful to avoid covering the still-forming crown, her hands deft and used to the work, which was unfortunate. She had come to relax, to get lost in her favorite activity, but she was so accustomed to the care of the plants that it no longer took conscious effort to do so.

Someone cleared their throat behind her and Katie stilled, her fingers still tangled gently in the plant's leaves.

She looked up, not surprised to see Travis standing there, his silhouette gilded with orange and golden dust flecks. It didn't mean that her stomach refrained from lurching or her mental walls to close ranks and aim bristling spears at the enemy.

"Did you crush any plants on your way here?" she asked bluntly, without preamble, and it made Travis offer a tentative grin and scratch the back of his neck.

"Um, no. I made sure not to this time."

"Mm."

Katie leaned back on her heels, watching him steadily, waiting for him to say his piece and then leave her alone.

Instead of being put off by the chilliness radiating off the girl, Travis settled in beside her, legs crossed like an Indian's. She frowned.

He didn't address the issue hanging over their heads like a dangling sword. Instead, his eyes drifted to the little plant her fingers were still brushing, and asked, "What're you planting?"

"Is there some reason you've suddenly taken an interest in my gardening, Stoll?" she drawled.

He shrugged, the way her words had aligned themselves into battle formation apparently shredding any effort he might've had to act casual, and didn't look at her.

"I'm always interested in what you do," he said quietly, momentarily making Katie shut her mouth and study him intently, searching for the reason backing those words.

"I'm not so sure that's as much of a blessing as you want it to be."

Travis's fingers worked around the green strands of a nearby strawberry plant thrusting tentatively through the soil, and Katie's eyes snapped to it at once, but since he wasn't hurting it, she unwillingly transferred her gaze back to his face. The freckle-splattered, tanned face that was so often morphed in mischief, but now remained contemplative. Quiet. Unwilling to tread over the line he had no problem wrecking in all the years she'd known him.

It made her warier of him than ever.

"Why?" he asked at last, after the silence stretched on longer than she had ever heard Travis without words.

She loosed a breath.

"Oh, I don't know, because you clinically can't take anything seriously? Because you never listen to me? Because you crush my plants and rob my store and steal my hat?" Her voice got louder, the volume against her will, but she didn't fight it. "Because you made me think you'd died and found it hilarious?"

Travis's gaze settled on the ground. "Oh."

"Yeah," she said bluntly, harshly, coldly, and looked away from his profile.

He shifted over slightly, drawing his knees up to wrap his arms loosely around them, fingers interlocking in front. As though he meant to stay, which made Katie's confusion and wariness grow. There was nothing more to say, so why did he seem so reluctant to go?

"I didn't think it was funny when I realized that you'd taken it so...er..."

She scoffed as he trailed off awkwardly. "That's not really the point. Great, so you realized your pranks aren't as funny as you'd like people to think, but the fact that you only realized it when I-" _cried_. The word lay heavy on her tongue.

He noticed. She could tell by the stillness that took hold of him, the way his blue eyes pinned her and didn't flit over the strawberry patch or settle awkwardly on the ground as he'd been doing only moments ago.

"When you realized you're not as unbreakable as _you'd_ like people to think," he finished, and she glared at him, disliking the way he'd turned the tables. Disliking that he'd tried to wrest control from her yet again.

"We're not talking about me," she snapped. "We're talking about _your_ immaturity and _your_ carelessness and-"

"Okay, okay, I get it," said Travis, annoyance flitting over his face for the first time, and it bled into his voice. "But please believe me when I say that I'm sorry. I didn't- I hadn't meant for you- Look," he sighed, his knees parting slightly as he tipped his chin downwards, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he tried to find the right words.

"When you- When I heard you crying, that was pretty much the worst sound I've ever heard."

Katie stilled, her heartbeat a fleeing hare's.

"I never meant it to go that far," he said, and the honesty in his level eyes trapped Katie in place. "I'm sorry."

She stared at him.

And suddenly he smirked. "It kind of slipped my mind what a worrywart you are and how quickly you jump to conclusions, so you understand-"

She smacked his arm and he laughed, the sound spiraling up to the sky.

"How did you even stay down there for so long?" she asked in spite of herself, in spite of still warily circling Stoll's apology.

He shrugged and lay down, pillowing his head with fingers hooked together behind his neck, elbows sticking out on either side. "Oh, you know. I've got my ways."

He winked. "Let's just say my chiseled good looks and smooth charm come in handy when dealing with naiads."

She gazed at him, unimpressed, and it made him direct a grin up at the darkening sky, easygoing and relaxed as usual. As though he knew she would forgive him just like that, and that made annoyance twist in her gut. His looks weren't even chiseled, which just meant his ego wasn't even realistic- good, sure, but not that. They were thin and angular and clever and handsome in a sneaky, sly kind of way. He had the face of a fox, if a fox had somehow taken of human form.

"So, what," she said, pulling her attention away from contemplating his obnoxious face somewhat reluctantly, "you bribed the naiads to form an air bubble for you and then what? Waited? What did you _think_ I'd think had happened to you?"

Travis shrugged, looking sheepish. "I hadn't really thought that far."

She sighed through her nose and looked away, back at the strawberry plant, and he straightened slowly, closer to her than before. Her blood electrified, and she gritted her teeth in frustration. She was _mad_ at him. So why did he still have this effect on her?

"Hey."

She refused to look at him.

"Katie, come on, you can't stay mad forever."

"Like hell I can't. You made me think you died."

He sighed. "Yeah, I know, but I've said I'm sorry, and you just swore, so I'd say that's enough extraordinary things for one night, don't you think?"

She cast him a sideways frown, and his lips widened into a warm smile that made her toes curl.

He leaned closer as though he'd sensed the way her breath hitched and though she frantically told herself that was impossible, the mischief in his grin made her think twice.

"Come on, Katie. Let's be friends again."

She arched an eyebrow in spite of her raging pulse. "Were we friends?"

"Sure. Kinda weird friends that annoy each other all the time, but yeah, we're friends." He said it with such certainty that she blushed.

She looked at him for a moment, her heart threatening to sink. Which was stupid. She hadn't given any label to what they had, but friendship was surely more than she'd given them credit for. More, and still somehow less.

She directed her gaze to the ground, at the particles of dirt that clung to her grass-stained knees.

"I mean, if I mean so much to you that you start crying when you thought I died..."

She shot a smoldering look at him. "Don't tease about that."

"Sorry. But really."

She stiffened.

"Why were you so upset?" he asked slowly, carefully, as though the implications had just dawned on him.

She opened her mouth, hesitated, and then closed it again. Her skin jolted with heat as a hand settled over hers, and her eyes snapped to it, growing wide. It was a little larger than hers, with longer fingers, and far paler than her dark skin. Her eyes raised to Travis's, who was eyeing her with a trace of nervousness, and it made amusement overtake her surprise. Chiseled good looks and smooth charm indeed.

"Come on, Katie. Let me in."

She twitched at the phrase he'd used, her mind flashing back to a slippery bathroom floor and a cascade of unwanted tears and a white door protecting her from prying blue eyes.

"I didn't want you to die," she said softly. "I didn't want you to...disappear."

She didn't dare look at him, and she hated how he made her afraid when with anyone else, she knew she'd be steel. It didn't help that what she was saying was ridiculous. She was _always_ telling him to go away, and she'd always meant it.

She heard the rustle of cloth to her left, which told her Travis was moving a moment before his face appeared right in front of hers, making her blink at him before leaning backwards. Because he was far too close.

He smiled slightly as she widened the gap between them. "You weren't looking at me," he explained, and she rolled her eyes and huffed, but a smile twitched at the edges of her lips. "This seemed effective before, so..."

"Uh huh."

He tilted his head at her. "You don't want me to go?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't twist my words. I said I didn't want you to die, not that I wanted you to keep hanging around me and steal my stuff."

He shook his head, looking disappointed and exasperated. Then it steeled to something like nervous defiance, which Katie hadn't quite believed existed until she saw it settle on his features and prompted him to gulp slightly as he looked at her.

She frowned. What was that look for-?

When his lips touched hers, her mouth burned and her eyes flew wide. His eyes were closed as he kissed her, a press here, a nudge there. She shut her eyes even though it felt like defeat, something loosening in her chest. He kissed her again, eagerly, pressing forward until, reluctance quickly becoming something of the past, Katie slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. She didn't care about the consequences, about how she'd find a way to defend this chink in the armor, about anything but succumbing to the thing she didn't know she'd wanted until it happened.

A soft, needy sound pulled from his throat and Katie kissed him back, fervor building, wanting to make him make that noise again. His hand slid into her dark mane of hair, cupping her neck and tilting her towards him, his lips parting from hers briefly to find a new angle. Katie pressed against him and pulled on him, wanting him closer, wanting pressure and heat and she wanted it _now_. She wanted it before she could remember that the fact that this was Travis Stoll wasn't supposed to thrill her.

He moved with her helplessly, and she leaned backwards, not to get away, but to lay against the unyielding earth, hauling a willing Travis with her. He settled over her, a hand on her cheek and the other supporting him over her as their lips met with brief, breathless kisses. She leaned into him and he into her, helpless to the heat and the want and the sensation.

When he moved away at last, Katie leaned her head upwards to catch his lips, thinking for less than a second that he was just pulling away to realign his lips with hers. Her eyes blinked open, surprised. And when she did that, when she saw Travis hovering over her, it all came rushing back why she _couldn't_ do this.

She wriggled out from underneath him, scooting backwards, heat fluttering hot red feathers over her cheeks and filtering through her faint freckles.

She opened her mouth, for once not knowing what would come out, and the look on his face made so many words rise that they lumped in her throat, too many all at once that they blocked each other. It was resigned and patient. It was a face that waited for the inevitable.

"I have- problems-" she blurted out before she could stop. "With opening."

His brow creased with confusion. "Opening doors?"

She snorted, her fragile, expectant pause broken as she laughed. " _No_."

"Really? Because you seemed to have problems opening it earlier this afternoon-"

"Travis. I mean..." She gestured to the space between them, trying to convey her meaning without words, and very much afraid of what he'd do with that information. She didn't want to open, even now. This was still Travis Stoll. Still someone who bugged her on a daily basis. Someone who had been a wasp buzzing about her life for far too long now.

But.

But maybe that kiss meant something.

Katie moistened her lips, her palms growing slick with sweat.

Maybe she wanted it to mean something.

Her fingers tightened her hold on the slim stalks of grass, fisting in the plants, the thrum of life humming up her arm like a heartbeat.

"You mean?" he inquired, blue eyes curious.

She shook her head, and lifted her eyes to meet his. He drove her crazy, he really did. He scared her when she'd thought he was dead, and that...that could mean something. She'd wanted him to kiss her longer, and that could mean something too.

But however much those things meant, he had not yet molded into the key that would unlock her. That would give her vulnerability a voice. But she was...tentatively...warily...okay with whatever this was to go on. Maybe he could be, one day. She didn't trust him, not really, but maybe, just maybe, she could. Maybe, just maybe, she would.

She met his eyes and smiled slightly at him, her lips curling upwards at the corners. "Nothing, Travis."

He fanned an eyebrow at her. "I don't believe you."

Her lips curved upward. "I don't care."

When he kissed her, she let him.

* * *

 _~Fin_

* * *

 **A/N: I write for both my own enjoyment and for yours, so please leave a review if you liked reading this as much as I liked writing it. ^^**

 **Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or the setting. Those both belong to Rick Riordan.**


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